Our local hospital is really beautiful with its subtle Christmas lights. Note the Star of Bethlehem. We may not be proper here in the UP, but most of us place Christmas right where it should be. Those who don't like it can look the other way... or better yet, just move away.

December 10, 2014 - Wednesday
23 degrees/cloudy/calm
Pentoga Road

I'm sitting here chomping at the bit to get out to the barn and finish the inside makeover of the ice shack and later, go fishing.



A large part of Tuesday was spent visiting my friends over at Today's Smile, Eric and crew, at the dentist's office. A couple of small cavities were filled and though I was kiddingly asked if I wanted a general anesthetic, the cavities were so shallow that I didn't even require a shot to deaden the area. I like a good dentist with velvet fingers.

Brenda and I were talking after when she asked when I was coming in for my cleaning. My insurance pays for two free ones a year and this year is about finished. It happened that they had an opening at 11 Tuesday morning, so I came home and worked for a couple of hours, then went back into town and met my newest, bestest, friend, Mel, the dental hygienist... or as I call her, the Cleaning Lady.

Mel's a sweetheart. We gabbed for most of an hour. Well, she gabbed for most of an hour. All I could do was grunt in reply. Mel had her hands, elbow deep, in my mouth. I discovered my cleaning lady had been a missionary in Uganda and Kenya in the past. A self-professed city girl, I also learned she is a direct descendant of the Hatfields and McCoys in Kentucky.

So what did I learn from my cleaning session? Well, one better not mess with the cleaning lady. Though she was very nice, gentle, polite, and downright friendly, it seems to me that if Miss Mel got mad, she possesses the genetic makeup to pull a Hatfield and McCoy on a person, then pray over his body.

Naw, she's a sweetheart and as always, I walked out of the dentist's office in a better mood than when I entered.

I was thinking later in the day. The veterinarian commented the last time he saw Brutus that his teeth were very white and in great shape. We attribute Brutus's dental hygiene to his daily, early morning, Denta Stik... that hard-to-chew, smelly thing, that costs only dollars per bag and a bag lasts a month.

Hmm, an idea here. I wonder if a person might be able to get those Denta Stiks in any other flavor other than Slaughter House Blood Guts and Beef? It could be cheaper than going to the dentist. Just a thought...

I worked on the ice shack for the rest of the day, until well after dark. The hole for fishing was moved one foot to the front which required I move the floor braces. 



It seemed to take forever. I then began working on my system to mount the sonar/fish finder on the wall.



A piece of one by six was secured by hinges across the fishing area so that I can get in to drill the hole without having to move the entire shack. I'll put up a mounting bracket today so the screen will be eye-high and I'll be able to see the darn thing. 



I'm fairly certain the rate of catching fish has greatly diminished the past couple of years, mostly because I've found my line alongside the hole sitting on the ice when I thought it was in the water. Hard to catch fish when one's bait is ON the ice, not in the water. Since the sonar/fish finder actually sees my lure and I'll be able to see the screen, I ought to be back in action.



Sargie was home early last night and we spent a couple of hours driving around the area, sipping Cokes, looking at the Christmas lights. 



Sargie drives and I'm the copilot. It's enjoyable as we are able to catch up on the day's activities and simply appreciate being together.



Sargie closes tonight. I'm going to head over to Iron Mountain later this afternoon, hang out with her, then we'll ride together home through Florence, Wisconsin, so we can look at some of the decorations. Meanwhile, I'll finish mounting the fish finder then take the shack to the lake for a test drive. Hopefully, it will all result in catching meat for the table.



But first, it's time for that all important cup of coffee, throw a log on the fire, and think some deep thoughts.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...